Sam & Max vs Johnny the Homicidal Maniac
by Question the Majority
Summary: The name says it all, really: Everyone's favorite comic book Freelance Police are called in to take care of everyone's favorite comic book serial killer. [Rated PG for good, clean cartoony bloodless violence and comic book swear symbols.]
1. Squee Waxes Poetic

**Disclaimer:** If I owned these characters, I would already have Johnny institutionalized. As for Sam and Max, they'd still be free to terrorize the world. In other news...

Lagomorph: Any of various plant-eating mammals having fully furred feet and two pairs of upper incisors and belonging to the order Lagomorpha, which includes the rabbits, hares, and pikas.

That information might be helpful to a few readers. Also, a quick Google search for those unfamiliar with Johnny the Homicidal Maniac or Sam & Max. Underground comic books are great, but it's so difficult writing material for them that everyone will understand! –Matt

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**Sam & Max vs. Johnny the Homicidal Maniac**

in** "How Much Is That Snarling, Flesh-Rending Demon In The Window?"**

by Matt Garner

(loosely based on the Greek epic** "Sam & Max Eat Some Meat"**)

**Chapter 1**

**Squee Waxes Poetic. Like A Poetic Thing That's All Waxy and Poetic-Like...**

Billions upon billions of gloriously scintillating points of light winked down at Earth from the inky black void of space. Similarly, two (unnaturally large) bright amber eyes gazed upward from behind a window of bulletproof glass. Ten-year-old Todd Casil sighed quietly.

"It sure is pretty tonight, Shmee," Todd squeaked to his spooky little teddy bear, "I like it best when the stars are really bright, like lots of little angels all watching over me... It makes me feel all safe and happy-like..." He smiled peacefully, but poked his bottom lip out a second later in thought.

"... Gee, I sure hope those spooky aliens don't come to kidnap me again tonight. Huh?"

Squee blinked at his bear, then rolled his eyes.

"Now you're just talking crazy, Shmee. I mean, sure, I've seen a lot of hideous monstrosities in my sad, short life; but you actually expect me to think there's a crazy albino biped rabbity thing out there? Hehe... You're silly!"

Suddenly, and without warning, a crazy albino biped rabbity thing leaped up and pressed his face flat against the window, screaming "BOOGITY-BOOGITY-BOOGITY!"

Todd shrieked in fear and hid under his blanket, wondering just how much longer it would be until these kinds of occurrences finally caused him to lose his mind.


	2. Breaking and Entering

**Chapter 2**

**Breaking and Entering**

"Well, here we are at 777 Purgatorio Lane," Sam narrated, hands shoved deep into his coat pockets. "According to the Commissioner, there's been far more than the daily recommended amount of unsolved murders and mysterious disappearances around here..." The 6-foot, suit-wearing canine tipped his hat back a little and sized up the miserable, decrepit little shack of a house he was standing before and took particular notice of the two signs stating "Keep off the loose soil!" and "Don't tread on the dead!" on the bare dirt front lawn. "Heh heh..." he chuckled, "But darned if it isn't the cutest little 'casa de los muertos' I've ever seen! Now stop terrifying that bug-eyed little kid in the window and get your little fluffy white butt over here, Cottonhead!"

"Awww, okay," Max whined, sullenly trudging to his buddy's side. Suddenly, the little lagomorph's ears pricked up and he pointed wildly at Sam, grinning like a lunatic (which is how he grins all the time anyway). "Hey Sam!" he laughed, "Can'tcha read? You're not 'keepin' off the loose soil'!"

"I know," Sam answered, nodding, "And it appears that you're 'treading on the dead,' if this sign informs correctly."

Max nodded gravely. "I know, Sam..." he whispered in awe. Leaping gleefully from foot-to-foot, he squealed "But I like it, I like iiiiit!"

Grabbing his best buddy and business partner by the floppy ears, hoisting him up, then tucking him under his arm like a moldy sack of potatoes, Sam headed to the door. "Alright, enough of this tomfoolery, Max!" (Max was heard babbling "Who's Tom? And who's he foolin' around with? BETTER NOT BE MY MOMMA!") "We've got us a sociopathic wacko to toss into the clink!"

"What's a 'clink'?" Max asked, still grinning manically.

Sam knocked at the roughly-hewn front door, calling "Hello? HellooOOoOoOoOOO? Mister psychopathic lunatic? It's the Freelance Police! We're here to arrest you for your crimes against humanityyyy..."

"We have bagels!" Max chimed in.

After a few moments of silence, Sam rubbed his chin thoughtfully with his free hand. "Hrmmm..." he muttered, "Either our culprit isn't home right now or he's just sitting in his secret 'I don't like lawmen' room, playing the ollllld waiting game in hopes that we'll give up and go home! In which case, of course, we'd be forced to take drastic measures!"

"OOH! OOH! DRASTIC MEASURES!" Max cried, flailing around as best he could under Sam's arm, "DRASTIC MEASURES! DRASTIC MEASURRRRRRRRRRRRES!" He drooled unpleasantly, then took a deep breath and said "Wow, your pits stink, Sam. Have you been rolling in filth again?"

"Yes, actually, but that's neither here nor there," Sam answered, "As for the situation at hand, I think one of us should bust in through that boarded-up window there and then unlock the door from inside... Ready, Max?"

"Ready and willing, Max! I mean Sam!" the lagomorph replied, now wearing a World War II army helmet on his colossal head.

Without another word, Sam grabbed his buddy Max, wound up, and heaved the crude little beast through the boarded-up window. Sending splinters and chunks of broken wood flying about everywhere, Max bellowed "BOOGA BOOGA BOOGA!" at the top of his lungs, then landed face-down on the bare wooden floor with an audible thud.

Hands tucked back into his pockets, Sam waited patiently for Max to unlock the front door. A few seconds passed. Sam coughed slightly. A few minutes passed. Nothing. With a frustrated growl, the canine shamus hauled off and kicked the front door down, bringing it crashing down upon Max who squeaked like a squeeze-doll.

"Whoops!" Sam chuckled, "Sorry, little buddy! I figured your gnat-like attention span had caused you to forget what we were doing and that you were just wandering around the house like an idiot!"

Popping his head up from under the door (and STILL smiling!), Max said "I WAS, Sam! But then I suddenly remembered what we were here for and I was just about to unlock the door for you!"

"Heh, well don't that just beat all? Hey, look, Max! There's another one of your bunny rabbit brethren over there on the wall!"

"I'm a lagomorph, Sam. Look it up." Max wriggled out from under the door anyway and walked up to the wall upon which was nailed (through the stomach) a dead baby bunny. Max gasped and clasped his hands over his fuzzy head. "SAM! This is HORRIBLE! What kind of sick, depraved lunatic would do that to a helpless creature?"

"Normally, I'd say you would," Sam answered calmly.

"Yeah, but I mean ASIDE from me? What would drive a human being to--HEY!" Max squealed happily and leaped onto a very filthy old couch at the back of the room. "CHECK OUT THE NASTY FURNITURE, SAM! Wanna' play 'Name That Stain'?"

Without missing a beat, Sam replied "I would, Max, but it seems that couch has suffered far too many rounds for any of its stains to be recognizable as a single element!"

"I'm sitting in gravy right now!" Max announced proudly.

"HEY!"

Both detectives' ears perked up at the sound of a cold, inhuman voice shrieking at them. They whirled around to see what appeared to be two styrofoam Pillsbury Doughboy models, painted with ghastly demonic faces, waddling toward them.

"Whaddayaknow," Sam chuckled, "Looks like a pair of demonically possessed little street urchins come to drain us of all our bodily fluids!"

Max sighed and clasped his hands together as his ears drooped. "Aren't they cute, Sam?"

"SSSILENCSSE!" wheezed Mr. Eff, shaking his fist (with lots of squeaky styrofoam sounds) at the anthropomorphic crime-fighters, "Jussst what the #$ do you think you're doing here?"

Psycho Doughboy narrowed his eyes and growled "This is OUR home, you #$in' plushies! Nny's already got enough #$ing possessed dolls in this #$ house..." he pointed at a Bob's Big Boy doll who grinned and said "$# off, D-boy!" Doughboy just glared back at Sam & Max and continued "...so get the $# out of here! Go torment that $# Casil kid!"

"Good lord, Sam!" Max gasped, "They're speaking in tongues!"

Producing his (correspondence-course) police badge from the folds of his coat, Sam explained "Take it easy, Stumpy! We're not stuffed animals, we're Sam & Max: Freelance Police!"

"Though I'm sure you can find bootleg dolls of us on e-Bay!" added Max.

Psycho Doughboy snarled. "I don't care who the $# you are! Get out of here... NOW!"

"Afraid we can't do that, Popp'n'Fresh," Sam continued, "We've been assigned by the Commissioner of whatever state this is to track down the homicidal maniac who lives here and bring him to justice!"

"YOU FOOL!" Mr. Eff cackled, throwing his little nubby hands to the sky, "He can never be captured! NEVER! GWAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAA! EVIL ROX!"

Max narrowed his eyes evilly. "Take a hike, Squeaky, or I'll have to exercise my right to brutalize you in a comical fashion..."

"A dog and a rabbit," Doughboy retorted dryly, "I'm terrified."

Sam smiled and turned his head to his friend. "Max, the cuddly little dolls don't seem to think we're scary..."

An indescribable snarl full of inhuman fury welled up within the fuzzy little white bunny-creature while the Doughboys simply watched him with a bored sort of malevolence.


	3. Nny

**Chapter 3**

**Nny**

"Well, here we are in one of the raving whacko's cavernous basements..." Sam laughed and ruffled Max's ears. "Those little styrofoam Doughboys sure were pushovers, eh Max?"

"The one with the dirty word on his tummy tasted like cinnamon buns!"

"Heh, 'nothin' says lovin' like somethin' from the oven!'"

Max belched and coughed up a twitching styrofoam arm. Stomping it into little more than a few non-biodegradable squeaky bits, Max warned "Never quote retro commercials again if you want to live to see your next birthday, Sam."

"You're an adorable hellspawn, Max!" Sam joked.

And so, Sam & Max began searching through the many, MANY basements of 777, searching for everyone's favorite schizophrenic loony. As Sam kicked open yet another unlocked door (Sam likes kicking doors open) to reveal another dark and empty room, Max huffed and folded his arms.

"Awww, this is pointless!" he moped, ears flopping down over his face, "We've gone through roughly 67 basements by now and still no sign of any crazy people! I mean, SURE, the torture devices were kind of neat at FIRST, but where's the fun if there's no babbling schizos itching for a chance to use 'em on you?"

"Cheer up, Max!" Sam entered the room and looked around vaguely. "I'm sure we'll find him eventually..." Kneeling down by a long-forgotten skeleton in the shadows, he chuckled "Watch this, Max! You'll like it!"

Max perked his ears back up and watched Sam fervently in hopes of something to catch his short-lived attention span. Sam turned around with a goofy smile on his face and a skull perched on his hand like a hideous, grotesque puppet.

"Oh! Hi there, Max!" Sam said in a squeaky voice, moving his hand like a mouth, "I'm Señor Bonehead! How are you doing today?"

Max hopped up and down excitedly, waving his hands about. "That's funny, Sam! Now make 'im talk in a British accent!"

"Oh okay... 'allo, there, mayte!"

"Nah, that's more of an Australian accent, Sam..."

"Yeah, I guess. Hey, look at this!"

After tossing the skull behind his back (with a loud cracking noise), Sam reached down and wiggled the legs of the skeleton around while humming a can-can dance tune. Max collapsed to the floor in hysterics.

"WHAT THE $# ARE YOU DOING?"

Sam smiled up at the very anemic-looking man who had just stormed into the room. "Just disrespecting the memory of the deceased as best we can, that's all! And watch your $#ing mouth, pal! This is a #$ing PG story!"

"Now YOU'RE doing it, Sam! It's like a $#ing epidemic!"

Horrified, malevolent anger flashing in his enormous eyes, Johnny stomped forward, demanding "WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE, #$ IT?"

Holding out his hands defensively, Sam said "Calm down, buddy. We're Sam & Max: Freelance Police. We've been hired to send your keister to the big house!" Johnny's already wide eyes grew to the size of dinner plates.

"GEEZE!" said a shocked Max, "You're a skinny boy, aincha? And lookit the size of those EYES! Do you have some kind of horrendous physical ailment or something?"

"Now, now, Max," Sam chided, "He's probably just a perfectly healthy, well-meaning druggie!"

Jutting out his jaw and shivering with rage, Johnny C. grabbed a mallet from the corner of the room and swung it full force at our heroes... starting with Max.

"Isn't that cute, Max?" Sam said, "Another raving lunatic is trying to crack open your head!"

"I think I'll keep 'im, Sam!" said Max.

"Good luck cracking that skull open, pal," Sam laughed to Johnny, "That thing's tougher than diamond. Though, I wouldn't suggest trying. There's a scientific theory that, due to Max's overwhelming density, if his cranium were ever smashed open like some sort of gorey piñata, his mental vacuum would create a black hole powerful enough to destroy the very Universe itself!"

Johnny gawked blankly at Max. "Really?" he gasped.

"Yep!" Max answered.

With an insane smile, Johnny cried "COOL!" and set to work trying to bash Max's head in with a renewed strength.

"Tee hee hee!" Max giggled, "It tickles, Sam!"

Finally, gasping for breath, Johnny set the mallet down. Max snorted.

"HAH! Giving up already? You sissy!"

Johnny narrowed his eyes, reaching for a rope that was hanging from the ceiling. "Not exactly..."

Sam and Max instinctively looked up to see a strange black, metallic shape looming over them.

"Huh, well lookit that, Max! It's one o' them big, ol' cartoony anvils!"

"How cliché..."

The rope was pulled. The anvil fell. This caused them to black out.


	4. The Climax

**Chapter 4**

**The Heart-Poundingly Suspenseful Climax of DOOM! Doom... Doom... Doom... Doom... Doom...**

"Wow, Sam! That Jhonen Vasquez guy sure uses words like 'doom' a lot..."

"I know, Max! And he repeats words often... and has a tendency to speak like a 3rd-grader who flunked English class!"

"You mean like when he writes things like 'he's crazy! Like some kind of crazy thing that's all crazy!'?"

"Exactly!"

"I think it points to brain damage. Or stupidity. Probably stupidity."

"You're a bitter rascal, Max."

As the two lovable morons chattered on endlessly, Johnny (the Homicidal Maniac) looked up from the corner of the room where he was currently moping and wondering why life was so cruel. Standing up and heading toward the gruesome two-person torture unit that the dog and rabbity thing were strapped into, Johnny muttered "I see you two are finally awake..."

"Most likely," Sam quipped in his happiest voice ever, "Judging by the searing pain I'm receiving from these impossibly tight harnesses. After all, one isn't supposed to be able to feel pain in dreams."

Nny narrowed his eyes threateningly. "How can you be so sure about that?" he hissed. "How can you be so sure that your whole life isn't nothing more than a dream in the mind of a seriously disturbed person?"

"Check out the skinny guy, Sam!" Max said, "Somebody thinks he's a philosopher!"

"SHUT UP!" Johnny screamed, shoving his face right up to the two of them. "JUST SHUT UP, YOU LITTLE #$$!"

"Whoa!" coughed Sam, "Personal space, please!"

Max sniffed at Johnny for a second, then announced "You smell like tacos!"

Leaning back a little, Johnny began ranting while his eyes darted around uneasily. "You people... You're all the same... Whether human or... dog... rabbity... rabbity... dog... thingies... I don't know what you are... But STILL! You're all the SAME! ALL THE #$, #$, #$ING SAME!"

"I like his big, glassy eyes, Sam!" Max whispered.

"Ignorant little THORNS!" Johnny continued, not hearing him, "SPITEFUL, HATEFUL little DEMONS! Cannibals who can only cease the incessant grumbling of their $#ing stomachs by preying on their own KIND!"

"... I can see myself in them!" the lagomorph giggled.

Johnny was now huddled on the floor, sobbing violently into his hands. "You don't understand..." he whimpered, "You don't understand how much it hurts..." Suddenly, he glared hatefully at the freelance cops and wheezed "But you don't CARE, do you? NO! You don't GIVE A #$ING #$ ABOUT HOW WE FEEL! ABOUT HOW I FEEL!"

"Not really," Sam interrupted, "But we would like to get this job done soon, so can you hurry this along?"

Laughing bitterly, Johnny wheezed "You arrogant #$..." as his trademark unsettling sneer covered his face. "You stuck-up, self-absorbed, arrogant pup..."

"Hey, now I haven't been a pup for years now..." Sam complained.

"I'M TALKING HERE!" Johnny shrieked, brandishing a large knife.

Max blinked and turned his head (as best he could) to look at the blood-stained wall behind Johnny.

"Nice paint-job!" Max announced, "Sam, we should go for that look in our office!"

"Are you sure it won't just look like we're trying to to imitate the bloodstains on Flint's walls, little buddy?"

"Nahhhhh..."

"Hmm?" Johnny blinked and turned to look at the Wall. "Oh yes..." His eyes narrowed again. "That... That Wall... That's the reason I do this, you know..."

"Ramble on endlessly in barely-intelligable self-important speeches not unlike something one would find in a morbid teenager's diary?" Sam suggested.

"Yes... I MEAN NO!" Johnny whirled around and brandished his knife at Sam again. "It's the reason I kill..." Johnny's left eye twitched as Max was heard saying "I kill just for fun, myself." Continuing, Nny said "...You see... There's something... Some kind of Wall Monster behind that wall. That's why I need the blood. The blood keeps it away... But when the blood dries, the wall gets soft and the Moose... He tries to get out..."

"Moose?" Sam tilted his head.

"Oh, that's um... something I call the Wall Monster sometimes..."

Max's beady, evil little eyes narrowed as he ranted "WHAT IS WITH THIS VASQUEZ GUY AND MOOSES? AND TACOS? AND BEES? ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGH! I SWEAR I'LL KILL 'IM WHEN WE GET OUT OF THIS!"

"Don't mind Max, Mr. Homicidal Maniac," Sam said calmingly as Johnny blinked in confusion at Max, "Max is known to make regular death treats at cartoonists. Why, back in '94, he made an attempt on Chuck Schultz' life!"

"That 'Charlie Brown' kid knew too much..." Max explained in an angry hiss.

"Oh." Johnny blinked for a moment. "Well, I'm gonna' kill you guys now, okay?"

Max shrugged. "Kay..."

As Nny reached extremely slowly for the controls (because that's how things always happen in these dramatic moments), Sam said in a hushed voice, "Well, little buddy... I think this is really it. This just might be the end of the Freelance Police..."

"Here, Sam," Max said, handing Sam a photograph after somehow freeing his hand from its harness. "I always wanted you to have this..."

"Aw, gee, little buddy," Sam sobbed, now holding the photo with an equally mysterious free hand, "You really are a little softie..."

Max pointed happily at the photograph and laughed. "Heh, yeah... Lookit the handlebar mustache I drew on Richard Nixon..."

"Hehe... I like the bug-antennae you drew on Kissinger..."

"Ex-CYOOSE me!" Nny snorted irritably, "You're really being QUITE rude! Do you think you could at least ACT afraid?"

"Afraid?" Sam laughed, "We're too darn ignorant to be afraid of most things, right Max?"

Max giggled. "There's a silverfish crawling on my foot!"

Suddenly, due to the collision of the highly volotile illogical realities of both comic series, a horrible pan-dimensional portal opened inexplicably and the Wall Monster burst forth. Snarling and moaning from its countless mouths, the beast snatched Johnny in one hideous tentacle and--

"WOW! LOOKIE, SAM! IT'S OL' SKIPPY THE DEMON!"

The Wall Monster blinked and looked reprehensibly at Sam & Max.

"Skippyyyy..." Sam reprimanded, "What do you think you're doing?"

Skippy grumbled apologetically.

"No 'buts,' Skippy!" Sam said, "You know full well that you're already in enough trouble for tormenting those nice people at the grocery store... So if you don't want to be grounded, you go back home right now and stop making Mr. Johnny kill people!"

Skippy grumbled, trying to prove his case.

"DO YOU WANT ME TO BITE YOU, SKIPPY?" Max bellowed.

Skippy shrieked and faded away into nothingness, leaving Sam & Max and a very confused Johnny C.


	5. The Everlovin' End!

**Chapter 5**

**The Everlovin' End!**

"I... I'm free! I'm really free!!!" Johnny C. danced about on his front lawn merrily, watched closely by the Freelance Police. "Thank you!!!" He hugged Sam tightly, then attempted to hug Max, then shrank back when the little creature snarled loudly. "Thank you so much, Sam and Max!" Tears filled his eyes as he said "You have no idea what it was like... being under the control of that thing... The... The THINGS I've done..." He shivered and wrapped his arms tightly around himself.

"Hehe, that's alright, Nny," Sam laughed, patting Johnny's shoulder.

Max nodded, grinning with his hands on his hips. "Yeah! The point is, you realized what you've done and you're sorry for it. Plus, you let us go, so you know you're on OUR friend-list now!"

Sam nodded. "Yyyyyep! Unfortunately, there's still the little matter about your having killed a lot of people, so it's off to the hoosgow with you!"

Suddenly, a SWAT team arrived and grabbed Johnny, who gasped "What? N-NO! You can't! You don't understand! THE WALL MONSTER MADE ME DO IT! I'M INNOCENT! YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME!!!! CURSE YOU, SAM AND MAX: FREELANCE POLIIIIIIIIIIIICE!!!"

"What's a 'hoosgow,' Sam?" Max asked as the SWAT team for wherever it is that Johnny lives drove away.

"I'll tell you when you're older, Max," Sam chuckled. "It's dirty!"

"Aw, okay." Max leaped into their black-and-white 60's DeSoto and grinned wildly at Sam. "Now let's go to the mall and beat up some gothic teens!"

Sam laughed and hopped into the car. "You crack me up, little buddy!"

And with that, our heroes drove off into the sunset...

Goodnight, and may God bless...

**EXCELSIOR!!!**


End file.
